WAYPOINTS: The Highlands through a Smeared Window (Settle to Mallaig)
You Take the High Road…
The seed was planted at Christmas. A gift from my partner, Katie, who had taken on the impossible task of buying a present for "the man who has everything". The grand plan was a train-bound pilgrimage from our home base in Settle up into the deep recesses of the Scottish Highlands.
Plans and train timetables, however, rarely synchronise fully with reality.
The logistical ‘stars’ didn't quite align for an all-rail itinerary, so we improvised. A hybrid journey was hatched: a five-hour road trip from North Yorkshire to Fort William, followed by a hop onto the legendary West Highland train line to Mallaig.
We set off at the back end of March. No summer crowds. Certainly no guarantee of sunshine. Just a car, Jasper the dog and a compass, as ever, pointed North of Here.
The trip overview - Settle to Mallaig via Helensburgh and Fort William (Image: Google My Map)
Helensburgh: Salt Air and Inventions
To break the back of the five-hour+ drive, we made a pit stop at Helensburgh, nestled in the mouth of the Gareloch on the north shore of the Firth of Clyde.
The Scottish weather welcomed us with its usual grey opacity, but the grit of the town captivated us. We struck gold with our base camp: Rooms Above Sugar Boat. It gave us a warm, dog friendly, sanctuary, a brilliant bistro breakfast, run by a friendly team and exactly the kind of independent local flavour we love to find on our travel adventures.
A highly recommended base or stop-over location for exploring Scotland’s west coast.
Despite the wind-swept downpour, and needing to stretch Jasper’s legs, we donned our raincoats and walked around the town. Part way around, standing at the head of one of the roads working its way back from the coast, we stumbled upon the bust of John Logie Baird—the man who invented television, born right here in 1888.
The bust of John Logie Baird, Westbay Esplanade, Helensburgh (Image: Damien Wilkinson)
It’s a low key, unpretentious place, gently suggesting a return visit when the skies clear.
Around and about in wet and windy Helensburgh (Images: Damien Wilkinson)
Fort William: The Stepping Stone
Moving further north, the rain turned from persistent to downright bleak. We rolled into Fort William and checked into The Garrison—a hotel retrofitted out of a former police station and its old cells. There was a certain irony in sleeping in a place designed for confinement, especially when you’re on a journey infused with the spirit of exploration.
Fort William itself is functional, rugged, and entirely without any airs or graces. It doesn’t exist to look pretty; it exists as a gateway. With the shadow of Ben Nevis looming nearby, the streets are populated by walkers, climbers, and people looking toward the horizon. It’s a stepping stone for onward exploration.
We dried our gear, as well as a soaking Jasper, tried to look at the peaks through the mist, and waited for the morning line.
The West Highland Line (Filter: Less Than Clean)
Because we were ahead of the frantic summer season, the famous Jacobite steam train was still in golden slumbers in its shed. We boarded the regular diesel commuter train around lunchtime instead.
Our carriage was packed to the rafters with expectant American tourists, all of us looking out at the gathering mist.
The famous Glenfinnan Viaduct, West Scottish Highlands through a smeared train window (Image: Damien Wilkinson)
The crown jewel of this route is the iconic, sweeping curve of the Glenfinnan Viaduct, bridging the gap at the head of Loch Shiel since 1901. Today, it’s universally recognised as the "Harry Potter Bridge," and as the train banks into the curve, every phone in the carriage is pressed against the glass.
Pro-tip for the uninitiated: Sit on the left-hand side of the train on the outward journey if you want the best viewing angle of that viaduct!
My own photographic evidence comes with a built-in disclaimer: the rustic filter of a less than crystal clear train window.
Fort William-Mallaig train journey scenery through a train window (Image: Damien Wilkinson)
Yet, a smeared window couldn't taint the sheer scale of what was being presented to us in a widescreen format that even John Logie Baird would have marvelled at. The landscape here doesn't care about your camera angles. It is magnificent, bleak, and cinematic. Snow-capped peaks traded places with ancient forests and deep, vast expanses of loch. It’s a stark reminder of the Highlands' raw scale—a quiet world completely insulated from our regular day-to-day existence.
Through a smeared window: Fort William to Mallaig train ride (Images: Damien Wilkinson)
Mallaig: The Edge of the Coast
One and a half hours later, the credits rolled on the opening episode of our journey, as we reached our destination.
Mallaig is a working fishing port on the western edge of the Highlands. It’s a place of arrivals and departures—the jumping-off point for ferries heading out to the Isle of Skye, the Small Isles, and the rugged, roadless isolation of the Knoydart peninsula.
When the train emptied, our collective herd of travellers splintered across the port. After an initial burst of sunshine, the weather quickly resumed its normal service—rain— and with even Jasper not really fancying a walk, there was only one logical destination: a local pub.
We didn't browse gift shops or hunt for souvenirs. Instead, we spent our couple of hours the traditional way—warmed by a fireplace, nursing a quiet drink, keeping a watchful eye on the weather and an ear strained for the squeak and screech of the returning train. It wasn't planned on the itinerary, but it ended up being the precise coordinates of where we needed to be.
Mallaig fishing port, Western Highlands (Images: Damien Wilkinson)
…and I’ll Take The Low (definition) Road
They say you shouldn't travel to the Highlands in March if you are not amenable to adverse and volatile weather. I disagree.
This trip wasn't about conquering summits or ticking off a dozen intense day-hikes. This was about the movement itself. Whilst we didn’t have an ultra high definition view, we channelled John Logie Baird in watching dramatic scenic imagery unfold from our own train seat ‘television’. Complemented by embracing the unplanned pub stops, and sharing a landscape with someone who knows exactly how to break up a long winter.
Next time, we’ll maybe catch the steam train and tackle the trails at the foot of the mountains. But for now? The turntable is still spinning, the compass is functional, and the outlook North of Here didn't disappoint.
Jasper, keeping warm whilst entertaining the fellow passengers on the train! (Image: Damien Wilkinson)
